


The Drug in Me is You

by yours_eternally



Series: Whumptober Wednesdays 2020 [3]
Category: Motionless in White (Band)
Genre: Drink Spiking, Dubious Morality, Hand & Finger Kink, M/M, Masturbation, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:48:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27133405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yours_eternally/pseuds/yours_eternally
Summary: Though his gut is prickling with sickly anger, Ricky can’t help but think that under other circumstances this might be kind ofnice. Chris is nuzzling into his neck, nose and mouth pressing against Ricky’s skin under his hair. Warm and sloppy and affectionate. Despite the situation, it’s kind of making Ricky’s skin tingle as heat starts to creep up his thighs. Ricky tells himself firmly he’d have that reaction toanythingwarm and heavy, mouthing his neck and laying on him in the dark.At a club Chris has his drink drugged. Ricky and the guys get him back to the hotel safely, and Ricky agrees to stay up to watch him. But Chris passed out and helpless is a distracting temptation for Ricky.
Relationships: Chris "Motionless" Cerulli/Ricky "Horror" Olson
Series: Whumptober Wednesdays 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1960549
Comments: 8
Kudos: 17
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	The Drug in Me is You

Ricky notices there’s something weird about Chris when he comes back from the bathroom. They’re in a goth club in Berlin (Chris’ choice, _of course_ ). None of the other guys are in sight but Vinny had yelled something about water before Ricky had gone to the bathroom so he guesses they’re at the bar. And obviously Chris is the easiest to spot, especially in his club stuff; sticky pleather and full make-up. Being a full head taller than most of the crowd helps. 

Ricky huffs out a breath, the club is airless and the walls are glistening with sweat as bodies writhe all around him. Ricky’s exhausted, and they have exactly 12 hours until they have to be at soundcheck, but he’s kind of into it. It’s like being 20 again, going to gigs and in the pit without caring if he’d be deafened or bruised tomorrow. 

But there’s something wrong with Chris. He’s dancing, long limbs wild, and as Ricky watches he stumbles into the person next to him, nearly losing an eye to the six inch studs on their choker. Ricky pushes his way over to him, catching his arm to get his attention. 

‘Hey!’ he calls over the music but Chris just blinks at him blearily. ‘Chris? You okay, man?’ Ricky says, trying to get Chris to look at him but his head’s rolling on his neck. _We need to get out of here_ , Ricky realises immediately. He can feel his pulse starting to kick. Chris has sort of collapsed against him, arm slung around his neck. 

Ricky fumbles his phone out to text Ryan but he spots them before he can start typing. He half drags, half carries Chris over to where he can see them standing at one of those little standing tables crowded with drinks. 

‘Hey,’ Ryan says, yawning when he recognises Ricky through the strobing lights of the club. 

‘Ryan, we need to go back to the hotel,’ Ricky shouts over the music and Ryan frowns, not totally understanding. Chris mumbles, hugging Ricky more and nearly overbalancing them.

‘What’s wrong with him?’ Ryan laughs, catching Chris’ other arm as he reaches out to him clumsily. 

‘I don’t—’ Ricky starts but Ryan makes a _can’t-hear-you_ gesture. ‘I DON’T KNOW.. I don’t think he can STAND,’ Ricky shouts, lips against Ryan’s ear. Ryan pulls back and rubs his ear wincing, eyeing Chris. 

‘Let’s go outside— we can call a cab,’ he says back into Ricky’s ear. Ricky nods and starts shuffling Chris towards the exit. It’s difficult. Chris seems to be getting floppier and floppier until Ricky and Ryan have to walk either side of him, shoulders in his armpits to drag him out as Justin and Vinny trail them bemused. 

A couple of people in the smoker’s area outside frown, muttering, when they emerge from the club staggering with Chris propped between them. Ricky ignores them, his heart is pounding. Now they’re outside in the cool air, it’s obvious Chris is completely out of it and barely able to keep himself upright. 

‘What’s happening?’ Vinny asks, pulling out his ear plugs (Ricky had rolled his eyes at him when he’d put them in but Vinny had stuck his tongue out and told Ricky to try playing along with a metronome with your ears ringing). 

‘It’s Chris,’ Ryan explains, though he hardly needs to as Chris is hanging around Ricky’s neck, face smushed against his skin, mumbling and giggling.

‘How can he be drunk?’ Justin asks, putting a hand on Chris’ shoulder to steady him as he let’s go of Ricky and takes a couple of unsteady steps, nearly ending up on his knees. 

‘Dunno,’ Ryan shrugs, looking at Ricky who shrugs too, ‘—do you think someone put something in his drink?’ Ricky feels cold suddenly, realising that’s obviously what’s happened. 

‘Shit,’ says Justin softly.

‘What’s—’ Chris mumbles, squirming in the grip Justin’s got on his arm, ‘what’s— Rick? Where’s Rick?’ He looks around wildly and Justin takes a tighter hold of his arm as he nearly goes down again. 

‘I’m here,’ Ricky says, stepping closer and patting Chris’ arm as Ryan orders an uber, which luckily is just around the corner, and they fold Chris into the back seat. 

He ends up with his head flopped on Ricky’s shoulder with Justin on his other side to stop him from slipping down from the seat onto the floor of the cab. Ryan and Vinny are sitting across from them watching with worried eyes. 

Though his gut is prickling with sickly anger, Ricky can’t help but think that under other circumstances this might be kind of _nice_. Chris is nuzzling into his neck, nose and mouth pressing against Ricky’s skin under his hair. Warm and sloppy and affectionate. Despite the situation, it’s kind of making Ricky’s skin tingle as heat starts to creep up his thighs. Ricky tells himself firmly he’d have that reaction to _anything_ warm and heavy, mouthing his neck and laying on him in the dark.

He does try to stop him, gently trying to shrug him off but Chris starts whining and scrabbling at his jacket so he stops letting him fit his head back into the space where his head meets his shoulder.

When they get back to the hotel, the medic in their crew confirms Chris likely had his drink spiked and the best thing to do is for him to sleep it off. Ricky says he’ll stay up with him, since they’re sharing anyway and Ryan agrees to take over from him after a couple of hours sleep. 

Chris is collapsed on the bed, boots dangling, black-painted nails brushing the carpet. The medic had explained he should be put to sleep on his side so he doesn’t swallow his tongue. 

So now Ricky’s sitting on one of the beds in their hotel room, wiping gently at Chris’ face to remove his make-up. He figures he’s going to feel shit enough in the morning without his skin itching. Chris isn’t really helping, squirming and turning to suck Ricky’s fingers as he blots his lipstick off. It’s sort of sweet.

For a moment Ricky lets him; lets Chris draw his two longest fingers into his mouth to suck. His eyes are unfocused and glassy, and Ricky’s certain he has no idea who he is. But his mouth feels so good and he’s all warm and floppy, and Ricky could just lie down beside him on the mattress and— 

Ricky pulls his hand back, feeling himself flush hot then cold. 

He stands and stumbles out of the room, closing the bathroom door and putting his back against it. He’s panting, shamefully hard; the thought rubbing up against Chris’ warm, unresisting body flickering across the surface of his mind. He raises his head and catches sight of himself in the mirror. Fucking _animal_. Chris had been _drugged_ , is barely conscious, and all Ricky can think about is how good it would feel to rub his inappropriate erection all over him. 

Ricky can feel a flush high in cheeks as he presses his back harder against the door, nails digging into his thighs through his jeans. Maybe he should call Ryan and say he can’t watch Chris; say he can’t be trusted. Or maybe he should just… take care of his dumb fucking dick himself. Quickly now, while Chris is all but passed out in the other room and none the wiser. It’s not like Ricky hasn’t dealt with this particular problem in more awkward situations or in closer proximity.

Though he feels like an asshole, Ricky yields to his treacherous body. He shifts, flattening his back against the door and bracing his feet against the tiled floor. Hands shaking, he fumbles his jeans open enough to slide a hand into his underwear. It’s cold and he shivers as he starts to stroke himself. He can’t get his wrist at a good angle, so he removes his hand and pushes his jeans down further around his thighs, catching sight of himself in the mirror again as he spits in his palm and takes hold of his cock again. It’s better, easier. He watches himself as he slides the fingers of his other hand into his mouth imagining he can taste Chris’ saliva on them. Imagining Chris sucking at his fingers; imagining Chris warm and yielding underneath him; imagining Chris nuzzling and licking while Ricky’s cock strokes against his soft skin. 

He moans softly around the digits letting his hips rock into his hand, getting into it. He can imagine it so vividly; Chris’ slack weight on him; his sweet, wet mouth against Ricky’s neck sucking. Ricky tightens his fist, stroking himself roughly. His saliva is barely enough lubrication but he’s kind of into that as well. 

Ricky arches, spine curving away from the door, hips pushing into his fist as he feels trembling heat sprawling down his thighs. _Fuck_. Ricky feels his gut twisting, disgusted and so fucking turned on at the same time. His muscles clench as he takes in his squirming reflection. He looks into his own glossy eyes before letting them drop to the fist pumping his flushed cock. He feels another tug of heat and tips his head back, fingers slipping from his mouth as he gives a low whine. 

He tightens the hand on his cock. His other sliding down his face to settle around his neck, pressing absently, imagining Chris’ tattooed fingers in their place. Ricky bites his lip, trying to keep himself quiet and he works his cock. He groans softly, low in his chest, as he feels his gut give a wrench and feels the orgasm spiralling. He comes, gasping sharply, stomach contracting so he’s doubled-over his fist as he strokes himself through it. 

Ricky swallows another moan, carefully letting himself go and forcing his strength into his legs to stop his body sinking to the floor. He catches his own eye in the mirror. He looks ruffled and flushed. He knows he should feel more ashamed but he doesn’t. He washes his hands and cock, dabbing at the new stain on his jeans before pulling them up. 

He exits the bathroom. Chris is still on the bed, curled on his side, breathing in heavy, huffing breaths. Ricky’s relieved. He allows himself to go over and stroke his hair. Chris mumbles, nuzzling into his touch and Ricky shushes him gently. When Chris has settled again, Ricky goes to sit on the chair by the window. There’s no point torturing himself by lying on the bed with Chris, however much he feels like cuddling after getting himself off. 

Ricky takes out his phone, and wriggles to get comfortable, crossing his legs. From the bed Chris mumbles again softly. Though it’s probably hypocritical, Ricky feels a sudden sharp surge of anger that someone might have seen him this vulnerable; that someone could have hurt him. And he _knows_ it’s just his hormones going wild after the orgasm but the feeling is almost breath taking it’s so strong. He sighs heavily, it’s going to be a long night.

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure why Berlin, I think they're just constantly on the European tour in my head 😅
> 
> Prompt is No. 22 Drugged 🙌 bit more "whumpy" and like.. the final one is actually, properly whump so let's all **LOOK AT THE TAGS** for that one.. 
> 
> ALSO just to say all my current wips are _wild_ and unlikely to become less so.. apologies for my future output in advance 💖
> 
> [xyours-eternallyx](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/xyours-eternallyx) on tumblr 🙌


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